Derek you're a Deadman
by Tuffen
Summary: Something bad happened, he can't remember what exactly but he woke up and everyone was dead. What's happening? And who the hell is this kid? Rating may change
1. Prologue

After the success of Deadman Wonderland in Japan, America has decided to take on the idea of having prison theme parks. Where inmates will perform and entertain the public to earn points so they can buy food and clothing inside the prison. It makes their life easier inside. Of course it's the blood lust of the public looking for revenge that brings in the crowds making it a very lucrative business. Why would the government complain when they are getting forty-five percent of all profits?

Derek comes to. Blood covering the walls, the floors, his hands, his face, his entire body. He looks to the floor and there they are. His entire family. In pieces. Hollow eyes staring at him accusing. His entire world went numb, staring back at those dead eyes.

There was no sound. Until there was.

Sirens.

He's taken to the 'New Wonderland' one just outside a town called Beacon Hills. A place no one had ever heard of until they had decided to use their forests as the dumping ground for the scum of America.

He gets given a bag, his 'beginners kit' and then shown to a cell he is supposedly supposed to share with another 'death row' inmate. Sighing in defeat Derek tentatively touches the cuff around his neck which is pinching his skin. He guesses he'll have to read the rule book to find out what it's for. Everyone seems to be wearing them and the white jumpsuits. He also guessed they are for tracking and monitoring the inmates. Real subtle.

Deciding to take the bottom bunk he lies down, arm over his eyes as he tries to forget. Though life isn't so forgiving is it? Now he has plenty of time to think about what happened about how his beautiful older sister looked covered in her and her families blood lying in pieces on what was their cream carpet.

How had that happened? One minute he is stood in front of his family talking about something that he can't even remember anymore. Then next his blood had begun to boil and there was this dark shadow, glowing eyes and pressure in between his ribs and then a burst of pain followed by the black of unconsciousness.

Derek was startled out of his grieving by a person smashing their way in through the tiny window of his room. He sat up on the bed, swinging his legs so they were firmly planted on the floor. He just stared at the buzz cut until the guy stood up fully. Idly brushing glass off of him self. He looked up and met Derek's eyes grinning. _What the hell? _Next thing Derek new he was being jumped on, the kid was all limbs. Pushing Derek flat on his back ending up with the kid straddling his thighs, hands either side of his head as he looked down at him, large brown eyes shining in the minimal light.

"DEREK!" The kid literally howled his name throwing his head back as if baying to the moon. How the hell did he know Derek's name though? He had never met the kid before. The kid looked back down at him grinning.

"Who the hell are you, and how do you know my name?!" Derek tried pushing him off but the kid was deceptively strong brushing his hands off before cupping his face pushing his forehead against Derek's, their noses bumping lightly. Derek thought he should be more freaked out than he actually was about this.

Derek felt the kid's forehead crease slightly against his own.

"We're friends Derek, always have been. You know? Stiles and Derek we were the A-Team. You always had the best toys when you came by and you could play for hours and not get tired." Stiles removed his forehead but moved only enough to look Derek in the eye. "Everyone else would get tired Derek, they were sooo boring." Stiles bumped their noses together again before crawling off his lap, deciding to sit next to him on the bed. Relived of the weight Derek sat up leaning back on his arms, looking at the boy who was now sat next to him lining up his feet as if doing yoga, he was biting his lip in concentration, rocking slightly.

_Again, what the hell?_


	2. Rottweiler

Footsteps thudded down the corridor, it caught Derek's attention enough that he moved his gaze from staring at Stiles to the space of wall that could be seen through the bars of his cell. He watched as one of the many guards sauntered past not even looking in his direction. Letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding; he looked down. Glass covered the floor; the broken window had created a draft in the cell making him shiver. Stiles just carried on rocking.

_Surely an alarm or something would have gone off when the glass smashed? I could be making a run for it._

He glanced at the window again. Then lightly touched his collar. Well that made sense, they would just track him if he so much as thought of escaping. Then he would most likely have to do something humiliating for the public.

Stiles hummed, looking at the floor. He leaned dangerously from his position on the bed. Picking up his supply kit he tipped its contents out, eyeing them critically. It contained:

One hand book, full of rules and regulations. It also told you how to get CP's (Cash Points) so a prisoner could buy normal food and clothing. If you raised enough you could get your own cell and a proper bed.

A CP card, used to pay. Simply scan it in the checkout points to check how many you have or to buy something new.

Tooth brush and tooth paste, well that was really expected, the toothbrush was white like his jumpsuit.

Then there was a piece of candy. Derek flicked through his handbook.

Stiles twitched beside him then jolted forward, spinning round and pinning Derek with those wide brown eyes.

"Ok Derek, LUNCH! I want to eat with you!"

* * *

Down in the canteen no one even looked at Derek, he picked up a standard lunch Stile following his lead and then walked out to a near by courtyard. The Canteen was a bit too crowded for his tastes, being outside was relaxing he could almost forget where he was.

_Hollow eyes staring at him, accusing him. Blood, a red so deep it almost looked black. A pair of gleaming eyes and crooked smile "tsh, no one lasts long enough to play" a pain erupting in his chest, coursing down his arms, his veins glowing red._

"Derek? Dude you don't look so good." Concern had taken over Stiles' feature and it just didn't fit, he looked too young to need to be concerned. He should be laughing and smiling constantly not looking so wise with this adult air about him. Derek just shook his head and turned towards an empty bench.

Once they had finished their lunches Stiles had lent against him breathing evenly before suddenly jumping up and running off suddenly stopping to turn only to offer a wave, smile and a

"Hey Derek, I'll be back with snacks. There are some awesome sweets if you know where to look" He winked then disappeared.

* * *

_They play in the yard of the facility his mother works at, he doesn't really know what they do here but there is this other kid there and they get to play for hours every day and he always gives Derek sweets and they share juice and stories. He tells Derek he reminds him of a Rottweiler with his dark hair, sharp eyes and fierce protectiveness. Derek isn't ever sure whether this is good or bad thing but the kid smiles wide and looks so earnest. Sometimes when the other is feeling ill they curl up together on one of the many beds talking quietly as not to disturb his mothers work._

_Today they are in the yard, the sun is high in the sky blazing down on their bare necks summer has set in finally after a surprisingly harsh winter. A black cat stalks through the yard chasing the small birds, fledglings that can't protect themselves, who don't know their instincts yet._

_Derek does though, he chases the cat off sending it yowling over the fence at the end of the yard just behind the blossom tree which is still fairly young, feeling proud he protected the birds. Kept them safe for another day. Suddenly he gets jumped from behind and then they are tumbling, a heap on the floor. They're laughing, curled up facing each other on the warm earth._

"_You did good Derek" He leans forward and bumps their noses together softly. The moment is broken by his mother coming out and asking for the boy to come with her._

_When Derek see's him again he's looking pale, paler than ever before. A frown seems to be burned onto his face. Derek tries to get him to lighten up but he just gets pushed down._

"_Shut up Derek, you're too dumb to understand anything." He stalks off after that leaving Derek staring after him confused as to what he did to upset the other._

_It's a couple of days before they see each other again, though this time Derek is saved by him. He makes Derek look like one of the little birds that the cat was hunting so many days ago. Now though it is Derek against a real Rottweiler, one that is foaming at the mouth. Growling and sizing up Derek, he doesn't know what to do he just slowly backs away. Though every step he takes back the dog takes another forward. _

_That's when the other rushes in. Growling louder than the Rottweiler, showing he teeth he crouches down in front of Derek, before tackling the dog in front of him. Derek doesn't see what happens next, that or his mind has blocked him out. The next thing he knows is the smell of his mothers perfume as his face is pushed into the soft cotton of her top. _

_That was the last time he was the other boy. _

The chime of the large clock grabs Derek's attention, he looks up from the booklet page he's been staring at for how ever long he's been sat here. He looks up, everything is still. Eerily still, the birds have stopped singing. The birds have stopped singing.

A loud growl sweeps through the courtyard, grabbing the attention of the few people there. Including Derek. Standing from the bench, he cautiously walked into a more open area of the courtyard. Stood there in the centre was a man, dressed in all black, fitted jeans sitting low on their waist, a tight fitted hoodie encircled his torso though their were gashes through the sleeves exposing rust red metal plates that were also tightly melded to his skin. As if it_ were_ his skin. The hood was pulled close around his face casting a show over his eyes, mock ears had been stitched to the top of the hood, padded out but still flopping forward. They weighed the hood further over the mans face. The air vibrated with power as another growl ripped from the man, he hunched into a crouch. This wasn't a normal prisoner. He wasn't a prisoner at all. Panic burst out through the courtyard, but time seemed to stop. Everyone froze, part from the hooded man who simply stood from his crouch before smiling a familiar crooked smile.

"Tsh, you lot are no fun. You are such a disappointment." He ducks and shoves forward; crouched.

Derek tries tracking his movements but the hooded man is impossibly fast.

They start dying, in the courtyard they begin to drop like flies. Derek stumbles backwards as he is rushed past, they are trying to escape but this hooded man is an unstoppable force. Derek falls scraping his arms, warm blood runs down the length of his forearm down to his elbow. Pain, confusion and an absolute need to survive pushes him up to his feet. His blood pulls, it starts to form into something new. Something solid.

People are still dying.

The pain settles, pushes and pulls. The hooded man has stopped, half turned towards him. Derek may not be able to see his eyes but he knows he has caught the hooded mans attention. He doesn't even know what's happening. He looks down to his hands. Where there was nothing, now there is a blood red sword. Solid and heavy in his grip.

_What the hell? I don't get this. I just want my family back. I want my life back!_

"_You did good Derek."_

The hooded man turns to face him properly, crooked smile pulls predatorily across his face. The mans know twitches and he huffs a breath, the smile widens.

"Tsh, now you could be fun. Please play with me."

_Play? What kind of sociopath is he?_ Anger boils underneath his skin, he can feel the sword become more solid, become sharper.

"What the fuck is wrong with you. You killed for no fucking reason!"

The man throws back he head laughing heartily, hands covering his stomach. His face is still covered.

"Oh, but it is so much fun. How about I show you?" With that the man ducks down again, tapping the floor before pushing forward. Forward towards Derek, holding this sword that appeared from no where. He would panic about it later, first he must survive this maniac.

He waits, trying to time it right.

Then he doesn't think he just pushes himself forward lunging the sword forward aiming for the soft tissue of the mans stomach. He clenches his eyes shut, hoping to get a hit in. Nothing happens.

By nothing, he means nothing.

Everything just stopped.

He chances a glance and sees the hooded man stood just at the end of his sword. Looking down head cocked slightly to the left. Listening to something that Derek can't hear. The man looks so much life a dog right now it's not even funny. The hooded man looks up, though Derek still can't see his eyes, or even his face enough to identify him.

"Tsh, sorry. We will have to play another day pup. My pack is calling." And with that the hooded man is gone.

_Gone where though?_

Suddenly exhausted, the sword in hand feels like it is ten times heavier. He drops to his knees. Wishing he was stronger.

A strange sensation over comes him, he goes numb as he watches the blood from the sword seep back into the scratches on his arm, sealing them shut afterwards. He doesn't have time to be freaked out or scared. He's a monster now, but he was a monster anyway.

Everything blacks out.

* * *

A dark room with a bank of large flat screen TV's covering one wall, their glow causing a silhouette of the single desk chair there. A chuckle emanates from the chair, though the person who it leaves can not be seen.

"Oh Derek, you always were the one with the best surprises. I knew you had it in you."

A hand moves forward, rolling over the mouse, zooming in on the unconscious Derek who is currently passed out in the courtyard, covered in his own blood. There are several lifeless bodies in the courtyard but this one is the only one breathing. The only one who played long enough to live.

The only one who will satisfy a need.

The hand reaches out, making a beckoning sign. From a dark corner of the room a new silhouette joins the other, kneeling down beside the chair. The hand reaches over petting the fuzzy hair on it's head.

"You won't be bored much longer young wolf."

A please whine comes from the silhouette on the floor, pushing into the hand. Longing for the touch, for the attention.

Another chuckle fills the room causing the other to shiver pleasantly before climbing into the chair, into the others lap.

Whining again, before settling.

"Good boy, don't let me down."


End file.
